


Sunday Morning

by Carbynn



Series: Awakenings [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No plot at all, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, really just pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13542018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carbynn/pseuds/Carbynn
Summary: In the quiet moments after waking, Roy takes the time to reflect on how grateful he is to have Edward Elric in his arms.





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is not at all the project I'm supposed to be working on or publishing but I've spent the past few weeks coming up with miserable angst and the trashiest smut with my friends that'll never see the light of day on this hellsite and I felt the need to atone for my sins with some sweet, sweet fluff. This is the first part of a series that I'll probably update as I continue to procrastinate and ignore major projects.
> 
> Thanks to the fabulous Iginita for proofreading this mess for me.

Although it isn’t a particularly difficult feat to accomplish, waking up before Ed is always something like a luxury. Really, that Roy is even allowed to wake up next to him at all is something he never intends to forget to be thankful for and he doesn’t know what he could have done in all of his wicked, miserable life to be deserving of it. There is little else in the world, and certainly nothing else in _his_ world, that can compare to the warm press of Ed’s lithe body against his side, and even the sun itself holds no comparison to the radiance of Ed’s yellow hair fanned out on his pillow or to the glow of Ed’s golden skin against the sheets.

Ed sleeps far more peacefully than he does anything else and Roy is always struck by just how _young_ he looks without the strain of his waking thoughts contorting his face. Gently, so as not to wake him, Roy brushes his fingers against Ed’s cheek, trailing them down over the curve of his jaw, mapping the rise and fall of the bone with his fingertips even though he knows the topography of Ed far more thoroughly than he even knows his own.

Ed sniffs, inelegant and porcine, and shuffles a little bit closer and Roy can barely breathe through the tightness in his chest. He allows his hand to shift downward to track across Ed’s side, bare still after their tryst the night before. He’s met with the familiar ridges of old scars and he rubs his thumb over each one he comes across reverently. They’re evidence of Ed’s hard life, evidence of everything he’s done and every risk he’s taken, and it kills Roy to imagine how close Ed must have come so many times to never coming home from the assignments he himself had slid across the desk and into his mismatched hands.

Roy wonders, sometimes, just how close he came to never having this. It isn’t something he ever imagined for himself. This sort of love, this sort of fierce need and fierce devotion, had never existed for him outside of stories until Edward Elric burned into his life. It swallows him whole, takes him to pieces bit by bit until he’s nothing but dust on the floor and then he’s reconstructed, transmuted into something better and something more whole with every day that passes. Ed believes he’s lost his alchemy but he hasn’t, not really, not where Roy’s concerned.

His hand is smoothing over Ed’s hip when golden eyes crack open and peer up at him, and Roy doesn’t bother hiding his smile.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to Ed’s forehead even as it wrinkles in response to the pet name.

Ed grumbles and rubs his cheek against Roy’s shoulder, closing off the rest of the space between them until he’s nearly on top of him. He slings an arm over Roy’s chest haphazardly and breathes out a long sigh against his neck. “Mhh, time s’it?”

“A little after ten, I think.” Roy’s hand roams over the side of Ed’s hip and smoothes over the curve of his back, following the line of his spine up to the back of his neck before plunging his hand into that fall of golden hair and stroking through it, gently working through the tangles. “Not bad for a Sunday.”

“F’kin early.” Ed’s metal toes brush against Roy’s instep and the automail hooks over his hip. “Shouldn’t be awake before noon on a Sunday. It’s law.”

“Funny, I never got the impression you cared much for laws. Besides, you woke up on your own.”

“Bastard.” Ed brushes a sloppy, tired kiss against Roy’s pulse. “You woke me up with your pervert vision.”

Roy chuckles and smooths his hand down over Ed’s hair. “My intentions were nothing but pure, I assure you.”

“Creep vision, then. Sap vision.”

“Much more accurate.” Roy nuzzles at the top of Ed’s head and tightens his arms around him fractionally. “I would be a fool to ignore your radiant beauty.”

“Ugh, _gag._ ”

“You love it,” Roy accuses, fancying that he can feel Ed’s face heating in embarrassment.

“Fuck knows why.”

Roy knows it’s just a front, just something he does out of habit rather than genuine dislike, and the soft familiarity of it warms him to the bone. He noses down, pressing kisses to the shell of Ed’s ear and working down over the curve of his jaw. Ed hums and tilts his head back, allowing Roy better access to the warm, golden column of his throat. He manages a little gasp when Roy sucks gently over his pulse and Roy smirks against his skin.

“Could that be why?” he purrs, and Ed chokes.

Ed takes a moment to compose himself. “Please, like I couldn’t find some other old pervert vampire to wake me up and bite my neck before noon on a Sunday.”

“I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a vampire willing to put up with you, love. Eternal life doesn’t equate to eternal patience.”

The huff, he suspects, is actually a suppressed laugh and Ed swats at his shoulder but there’s no malice in it. “Guess I’m stuck with you, then.”

“Mmh, I suppose so,” Roy murmurs, nosing a line back up Ed’s throat to his mouth and he kisses him thoroughly.

Ed’s breathing has quickened by the time Roy pulls away and his golden eyes are slightly glassy. “Keep that up, we really will be in bed ‘till noon.”

“It sounds to me like you’re getting what you wanted, then.” Roy brushes his lips against Ed’s again, unmindful of his morning breath, and cradles the back of his head in his hand, fingers slipping through golden strands. Ed hums quietly against his mouth before opening to him, allowing Roy to lick his way in and set to work teasing his tongue against Ed’s and drawing out more muffled noises.

There is no end goal, no desire to seduce or arouse, he’s only tasting, just enjoying the closeness and the freedom he has to _do_ this, and Ed is so warm and so solid against him that he can’t help but want to be closer, to draw this beautiful creature in and _love_ him.

Roy nips Ed’s bottom lip as he draws out of the kiss and presses his forehead against Ed’s, looking into those wide, golden eyes.

“What’s your deal this morning?” Ed asks breathlessly, curling the automail leg a little more tightly over Roy’s hip. “I mean, ‘m not _complaining_ or anything, just that you aren’t usually so… whatever.”

Roy rubs his fingers lightly against the back of Ed’s neck, drawing a little shiver from him. “I’m simply remembering to be grateful for what I have.”

“Sap,” Ed accuses again, but Roy can see the flush this time and he knows he’s succeeded in embarrassing him. “You don’t have to be grateful for anything. ‘S not like I can help loving your stupid ass.”

“That’s what I’m grateful for.” Roy tracks his fingers down Ed’s back, tracing over the scar that ropes across his right shoulder marking where the automail used to be. It’s another road on the map of his life, a map that somehow led him to Roy. “I would be nothing without you here, Edward.”

“You know,” Ed says after a moment of soft silence. “You’re not feeling that in a vacuum. You’re… um, I mean, you’re just as important to me.”

Ed doesn’t talk this way very often. Really, Roy doesn’t need it. He knows. He can hear it in Ed’s every word, can feel it in his every action and his every movement, but even still, the words catch him in the chest and for a long moment he thinks he’ll never breathe again. He catches Ed’s face in both of his hands and kisses him, pushing as much into the gentle exchange as he can manage without actually speaking.

They break apart again, and Ed holds his eyes for a long moment before breaking away. “Well,” he says, his voice cracking even as he’s stretching luxuriously against Roy’s side. “I’m fuckin’ starving. D’you think we got enough of that mix left to make waffles?”

The moment’s gone, but the warmth of it settles into Roy’s blood. “I think we can probably manage a few with a bit of creative maneuvering.”

“Sweet.” Ed’s smile is blinding and he rolls out of bed and struts across the room towards the bathroom. If Roy’s eyes linger over the curve of his bare ass before it disappears behind the door, well, he’s only human.

The bed is a little colder without the heat of Ed’s body and Roy’s soon driven out of it himself. He goes for his robe and ties it around his waist, taking a moment to stretch out some of the kinks his and Ed’s activities from the night before had instilled in his traitor body, but he won’t trade the ache for anything.

Ed breezes out of the bathroom a few minutes later and goes for the boxer shorts that he’d discarded in the middle of the bedroom floor. “All yours,” he says, stepping into them. “I’ll get the coffee started.” He spares a brief brush of his lips against Roy’s cheek before starting off for the kitchen.

Roy stares after him for a moment, smilingly foolishly, before shaking his head and coming back to himself. He knows better than to think Ed’s making coffee means there’ll be any for him if he takes too long. The little shit’s got the worst caffeine addiction Roy’s ever seen and he’s got only the vaguest concept of what it means to share.

Roy wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
